I am a soul resisting light,…

sunburnt blisters on my surface, lying desolate in the tail winds of incessant regret as pustules of broken dreams fertilize these sprouts; wildflowers growing through holes in my consciousness, permeating my heart with this rage, chafing raw the sensual glow of flesh as it bleeds disdain to replace the longing for hindsights that manifest themselves…

Double Not

I tie a ribbon in a foolish way, draw on the most frayed, pulling taut our damaged heart strings, hand painted with altered memories where we still laugh and wish… for the dulcet notes of deceit to cease and enough truth to get through these knots in the web we wove. I tried to undo…

Attachment Styles

I love you best when you are already out of my grasp.. Just a brush of a fingertip away, but far enough for the emptiness in the space to overwhelm all senses silent noise, blinding light, bittersweet, the memory tainted odor of coconut oil, sharp ache of affection’s phantom embrace. Nostalgia is the sickest form…

Beautifully Born

Womban, she is A compilation Of change, static, resiliency and regret. Her love, like her life knows no bounds